Firstly, the title of this blog entry doesn't refer to W. It could. He's symbolic on so many levels of many of the problems facing our country, but he didn't cause this one...that is, unless he did father the Hamm twins. It's striking how much Paul looks like W. Morgan does as well, but as I've always liked him more, I like to think that it's not as strong a resemblance.
Anyway, today's topic refers to honor and greed. One of those we generally think of when we think of the word "champion." The other has come to be linked in the eyes of the world, except of course, for the G.O.P. (and I contend it's their first name), with America. Much of America cheered on Paul Hamm during his comeback victory in the Men's All Around Gymnastics event. I personally wanted Marian Dragulescu to win. He's hot, and I may be adopting Rumanian kids, so I have a special spot for that country, but I digress.
To those of you out-of-the-know, Hamm was incorrectly awarded a gold medal due to a judging error. The bronze medalist in the event should have received the gold. When this was pointed out to him, do you think he did the honorable (read=champion like) thing to do?
Phillip Bondy, of The New York Daily News writes, "Hamm might have become a transcendent star here...if only he had seized the moment and risen above... He could have lobbied for the South Korean, Yang Tae-young, invited Yang to the top of the podium to share the gold medal. Instead, Hamm stood by the letter of the law, and his championship was severely diminished... Hamm, frankly, comes off as just another selfish athlete defending his turf." I have to agree.
Now let's move from a tarnished American example of what my parents taught me was being a bad sport, to the opposite end of the spectrum. Irina Karavaeva of Russia is the woman who insisted on giving back a gold medal at the 2001 world championships, because of a judging mistake. "The Russian people were very proud," said Sergei Turunov. I would be too.
28 August, 2004
26 August, 2004
2nd Row Corrs Seat Available!
Well, I don't normally solicit here at the blog, but I paid big bucks for this pair of seats, and I don't have a date for the show. I'm asking $75 o.b.o. for a second row center sear for the Boston Saturday, Aug. 28 show featuring my favorite band, The Corrs. Any takers email me!
phoenixrave@sc.rr.com
phoenixrave@sc.rr.com
08 August, 2004
Nightmare?
Today was the complete opposite culmination that I'd expected from the early stresses of moving up the Eastern Seaboard. Packing is never a joy but seemed especially drudgerous this time around. Everything was made especially bittersweet by the incredible birthday celebration provided by my friends from Alabama. I was truly blessed with them, and I'll cover that in a week or so, once I'm set up in Boston. Today's blog is about how amazingly today's move came together.
My departure from Myrtle almost didn't happen. The line for security at the Myrtle Beach Jetport was at least one hundred and fifty feet longer than I've ever seen it. It seems that all the airlines that fly out had flights scheduled in the same half hour period. Luckily, a Spirit representative came to collect passengers to move to the front of the line for their flight which left ten minutes after mine. I hadn't located a Delta representative, so I followed the Spirit rep. As the Spirit rep started checking the crowd to make sure that we were all Spirit passengers, a Delta rep came up behind her. I grabbed her and told her that I was on the Boston flight. She put me in the front of the security line and told me to run, which I did. With my belt and shoes in my hand, I ran to the plane.
I was supposed to wait until Eleven o'clock to get into the temporary place that I'm staying. That's when Patrick, my temporary roommate gets off of work. That meant eight hours of making myself busy. Well, my friend Jonathan offered to pick me up at the airport. This selfless act of generosity, not to mention driving me to a hardware store to make a copy of the key and then to drop Patrick's original back, allowed me to get online and work on this blog, as well as look for alternate apartments.
The room that I'd wanted, in the "South End" neighborhood of Boston went for $600 a month. Today I found out that when it was shown on Tuesday and Wednesday, the guy that wanted it has not called the roommates back. I was able to view the place, which seemed nice to me, although the neighborhood was sketchy. Apparently, that building was part of the first "projects" ever built in America. The location was still close to work, and I basically offered to take it. The guy looking for a roommate was a bit cagey. When he saw how much I wanted the place, his security deposit went up. That, and the fact that it was my first day in town made me Leary, but if he'd accepted a check then, I would be moving in this week.
Next was a "Welcome to Boston" dinner with Howard and Mark. I love those guys! If "The World Congress of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Trans-gendered Jews" serves no other purpose, it brought me to them. Before we ate, I went online and found a new apartment listing. After a call to the guy organizing that house, we decided to look at the place after dinner.
Where the other place was sketchy, this was homey. The roommates are MIT students and former MIT students. They play video games and watch football. What's not to love? After a brief discussion, the check was signed. I'll be a Cambridge resident on September 1.
After all the terror of this move: Could I get everything packed? Would I remember all that I needed? Would the transfer go through? Was it sane to move to Boston with no apartment? Would I have a bed tonight?... Everything seemed to come together today. I do wonder about that former roommate who had a breakdown and is now in a ward. One other thing troubles me...My address...It's Elm Street.
My departure from Myrtle almost didn't happen. The line for security at the Myrtle Beach Jetport was at least one hundred and fifty feet longer than I've ever seen it. It seems that all the airlines that fly out had flights scheduled in the same half hour period. Luckily, a Spirit representative came to collect passengers to move to the front of the line for their flight which left ten minutes after mine. I hadn't located a Delta representative, so I followed the Spirit rep. As the Spirit rep started checking the crowd to make sure that we were all Spirit passengers, a Delta rep came up behind her. I grabbed her and told her that I was on the Boston flight. She put me in the front of the security line and told me to run, which I did. With my belt and shoes in my hand, I ran to the plane.
I was supposed to wait until Eleven o'clock to get into the temporary place that I'm staying. That's when Patrick, my temporary roommate gets off of work. That meant eight hours of making myself busy. Well, my friend Jonathan offered to pick me up at the airport. This selfless act of generosity, not to mention driving me to a hardware store to make a copy of the key and then to drop Patrick's original back, allowed me to get online and work on this blog, as well as look for alternate apartments.
The room that I'd wanted, in the "South End" neighborhood of Boston went for $600 a month. Today I found out that when it was shown on Tuesday and Wednesday, the guy that wanted it has not called the roommates back. I was able to view the place, which seemed nice to me, although the neighborhood was sketchy. Apparently, that building was part of the first "projects" ever built in America. The location was still close to work, and I basically offered to take it. The guy looking for a roommate was a bit cagey. When he saw how much I wanted the place, his security deposit went up. That, and the fact that it was my first day in town made me Leary, but if he'd accepted a check then, I would be moving in this week.
Next was a "Welcome to Boston" dinner with Howard and Mark. I love those guys! If "The World Congress of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Trans-gendered Jews" serves no other purpose, it brought me to them. Before we ate, I went online and found a new apartment listing. After a call to the guy organizing that house, we decided to look at the place after dinner.
Where the other place was sketchy, this was homey. The roommates are MIT students and former MIT students. They play video games and watch football. What's not to love? After a brief discussion, the check was signed. I'll be a Cambridge resident on September 1.
After all the terror of this move: Could I get everything packed? Would I remember all that I needed? Would the transfer go through? Was it sane to move to Boston with no apartment? Would I have a bed tonight?... Everything seemed to come together today. I do wonder about that former roommate who had a breakdown and is now in a ward. One other thing troubles me...My address...It's Elm Street.
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